


When the tape is off

by Teatime_muddles



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon is my bitch now, Domestic Fluff, First fic plz be gentle, Jons a cat basically, Lots of fluffiness, M/M, No beta at all sorry, One Shot Collection, Shared Bed, Yearning, lots of snuggles, slice of life i guess??, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25010812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teatime_muddles/pseuds/Teatime_muddles
Summary: A compilation of fluff/writing practice for my current obsession, the magnus archives. Enjoy i guess? Plz leave tips if u wanna, i need the practice thank yoUuuuu
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Kudos: 38





	1. Evening cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> This is a buncha fluff cus i miss my bf- enjoy!

The light streaming through the crack in the cabin's blackout curtains grows orangey red. 

"Jon… it's getting late-" Martin calls from the kitchen. The cabin's small enough that he doesn't have to raise his voice much to know Jon heard him. 

Faintly, from upstairs, comes a grumbled "one moment" from the tired archivist. 

He's lying on the bed, and has been for about a half hour or so with a splitting headache from a particularly nasty statement. He gets up with a groan, slouching over the edge of the blanket strewn bed. He's still sore from their first night here- he had insisted on Martin taking the only bed in the place. 

Downstairs, Martin patiently waits for the kettle to boil while unpacking the two brown paper bags full of groceries. While yes Daisy had kept the place well stocked- Martin really isn't in the mood for eating rehydrated army rations for… however long they were stuck here. He sets down several cans of chicken noodle soup on the counter with a metallic clack- chicken noodle soup was one of the few canned goods he could still stomach, along with a carton of eggs and a small package of bacon. Even if they were on the edge of nowhere, Martin didn't want Jon to eat any more poorly than he already did. 

As Martin's back is turned to the kitchen entrance, jon pads in, quiet as a cat on socked feet. He grumbles tiredly and wraps his arms around Martin, spooking him slightly as he does so. Jon's hair is done up in a messily done bun with a pen, and Martin would very much like to neaten it up- get the hair out of his eyes. But he doesn't touch Jon's hair, instead gently patting the hands that are linked around his stomach. 

"Hello Jon… tea?" 

"Yes please Martin… thank you." He reluctantly lets go of him, arms hanging limply at his sides in a sweater several sizes too big for him. 

Martin recognizes that sweater. " _Hey_ \- did you steal that from me?" His tone is far from accusatory, much more amused and almost… flustered. Judging by his quickly reddening face, flustered is right. 

Looking up at him, Jon gives a look of tired amusement. "Yes i do believe it is, Martin~" That tone in his voice… almost teasing? No Martin was sure he was reading too far into it. 

He sighs shakily and smiles. "It looks good on you." The sweater in question is a pale blue with a honeycomb pattern across the front, it contrasts Jon's black and grey hair perfectly- but he has to keep tugging it up to avoid his shoulder hanging out. 

"It'd be even better if it fit properly." He tugs on it one last time before giving in. "But then again… if it fit, it wouldn't be yours." He looks down at himself, apparently not thinking too hard about the words coming out of his mouth. 

That is- until Martin lets out a sound that's a cross between an exhale and a squeak. And then immediately regrets ever having existed in the first place. 

Jon looks up at him, eyes wide like a cat whose attention has just been caught. "O-oh-" he flushes himself. "I… my apologies martin-" 

"No no no, it's ok," he flounders on his words. "I just- w-wasnt expecting that." 

The kettle whistles loudly, breaking the silence between the two. Martin takes this chance to turn away, hiding his blushing face from Jon. 

Jon looks down, the heat in his face spreading to his ears. It's been so long since he's blushed like this… and it's quite a strange feeling for the man who just spent several years as a passive observer of so much. 

"How do you take your tea, Jon?" It's not a question he hasn't asked Jon before, but under the stress of the lonely he's forgotten many small details of life. 

"Black, with whatever amount of cream and sugar you see fit Martin, I don't mind…" he says tiredly. He hopes Martin doesnt take it the wrong way, he's just exhausted from nonstop statement reading. Each statement he's read has drained him more, exacerbating the deep bags under his mismatched eyes. 

" _Jon-_ " he whines, "anything more specifiC?" Adding "as much cream and sugar as he wants" wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for. 

He looks up at him, frowning slightly in thought. "Enough milk to make it honey brown, and two spoonfuls of sugar- is that better martin?" 

"Much better, thank you." 

A few seconds later he hands Jon a mug- one of his own, seeing as Daisy clearly wasn't that fond of anything that wasn't uniform and plain apparently. It's a black mug with white letters reading "best cat dad." 

He mumbles a thank you into the mug as he takes a sip with both his hands wrapped around the comparatively large mug. He exhales deeply and catches his breath, having downed half the mug in one go. "Th-thank you-" his sentence is interrupted with a big yawn. "M… Martin~" he finishes. 

"Of course Jon." He takes a drink of his own tea, from a mug with a candy cane doodle on it and the phrase "twisted and sweet." He's turned his focus to the tea in his mug, hoping that the heat spreading across his face isn't blatantly obvious. Although jons raised eyebrow and slowly spreading smile says otherwise. 

Jon sets his mug down with a clack, looking up at martin. "Any plans for food?" He's more asking for Martin's sake, the statements having filled him up a good deal. 

Martin smiles softly, "of course- chicken noodle soup sound good?" 

Jon nods, choosing to wander back into the front room of the cabin and plopping down on the couch heavily. Martin worries about him- well he worries all the time about nearly everything, but specifically about how skinny jon is. Jons not much more than skin and bones on the best of days, and he's lasted the last few months on statements alone. 

Moments later, Martin joins Jon on the old couch. He hands him a bowl and spoon. 

"Careful- it's hot." 

Jon nods in tired acknowledgement but abandons the spoon and just drinks straight from the bowl. His throat's been burned to hell from years of drinking bitter instant coffee, it's not like hot soup will do much more harm. 

" _J- Jon!!_ " Martin sounds surprised and spooked, especially as the bowls just came out of the microwave. 

"Hm?" he looks over, licking his lips. "What is it Martin?" 

He sputters, the words failing. "I- its- nevermind…." He looks away, choosing to follow Jon's lead and sipping from the bowl. He recoils slightly, tongue lolling out. "Hell-" 

Jon glances over at him. "You alright Martin?" Hearing Martin swear, even mildly, is still something Jon's not completely used to. 

He nods, tongue still hanging out. "Just- burned my tongue is- is all." 

"Alriiiiight-" Jon leans against him almost absentmindedly.

Setting his bowl down on the far arm of the couch, he wraps his arm around Martin's belly and rests his head on his shoulder. He yawns widely, squeaking like a yawning kitten would. 

Turning to look at Jon, Martin's eyes widen slightly and his freckled face flushes. "Tired…?" 

Jon mumbles a response before yawning again, his arms still holding onto him. He leans his head against Martin's chest, listening to his heart. "Mmmlove yoU-" he mumbles. It's a physical effort to keep his eyes open, and the suns much too bright for him anyways. 

"I- i love you too jon…" He says as he sets down his now empty bowl inside of jons. "Cmon now…" He scoops Jon up in his arms, and he curls in against Martin's chest. 

The door gently clicks shut behind them as Martin pushes the door closed with his hip. Hitting the lightswitch with his elbow starts up the fan along with the soft orange light. 

Setting the exhausted archivist down on the bed, he barely stays sitting for maybe a minute. Martin has to steel himself for a moment before finally going to the closet and grabbing a shirt and an old pair of shorts he had barely worn but always intended to for Jon, and basically the same for him. 

"J-jon… i- um…" 

Jons too sleepy to care much, not like he would anyways. His constant reaction to nudity had always been with the same heavy lidded disinterested stare of a cat. He grumbles and curls up, obviously quite warm in the sweater that now pools around him. 

Martin frowns slightly, his hands faltering momentarily but he gets onto the bed anyways. He helps Jon lean against the headboard before helping him out of the sweater. He takes extra care to look at jons scarred chest as little as he can manage while he helps him pull on the tshirt. Likewise with the shorts. 

He gets into his own clothes, having left Jon curled up under the blankets grumbling for "his boy" which made Martin blush much more than he expected. Joining him in the bed, Jon rolls over and snuggles against his chest, smiling softly. 

He mumbles something that sounds like "gnight martin" but to any outsider it would've been nonsense. 

"Goodnight dear…." 


	2. The Train Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff- this time taking place before pretty much everything takes off. Pre-jane prentiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no schedule planned for all this yet- so have another chapter

_ "Case #1014079, statement of Eric Goodwin regarding…" _

The muffled voice of the Archivist often bleeds through his closed door when he records statements. Jon always closed his door when he was recording, otherwise he was out in the small room containing Tim, Martin, and Sasha's desks, bugging them about whichever case they were working on. 

Today however, Sasha had called in sick and since Tim always ran late, it was just Martin and Jon in the archives. Not that Martin minds really- any time he could swoon over Jon's voice without worry of Tim jokingly mocking him and Sasha joining in was a good time. 

He just hopes that the whistle of the electric kettle wouldn't be caught by the tape recorder, and that Jon will be finished in time for him to bring in tea without interruption. 

So far it's been a good morning, and Martin really doesn't want to ruin it by interrupting the statement. 

He watches the kettle with a careful eye, hoping to stop it before it whistles for too long.

He yawns and stretches, and the kettle chooses that moment to scream. Martin jumps slightly before clicking the off button. 

"Nasty kettle-" he mumbles to himself, pouring out the boiling water into two mugs. They steam up, fogging his glasses but it's not like he's not used to that at this point. 

Martin leaves the small kitchen, returning to his seat while the tea soaks. The soft and steady tones of Jon's voice can still be heard, but Martin doesn't focus too closely on them- he doesn't want any more nightmares. 

Minutes later, Jon emerges from the office. 

"Oh! Hello Jon!" Martin says cheerily, getting up from behind his desk to finish their cups of tea. "Did it all go well?" 

"Better than last week-" the Archivist grumbles in response, obviously drained from the statement reading. He yawns widely, reminiscent of a cat yawning, and that includes the stretching and shiver that runs through him after. 

He nods in acknowledgment, handing Jon one of the steaming mugs. "Here- careful it's still hot." 

"Ah- thank you martin-" he says, smiling down at the still swirling milky tea. "Do you know when Tim is getting in? He's… running quite late-" 

Martin shakes his head, taking a sip of his own tea. "No idea… he hasn't texted me either so my guess is he's just sleeping in. Yesterday was quite tiring for him, after all-" 

"O-oh…" he says, looking down at the floor. "Right." 

"It's not your fault Jon- all the statement research is draining…"

Jon nods slowly, taking a long sip of his tea, disregarding how hot it is. He looks up at Martin, watching his face carefully like he's expecting him to take back his words- even though he knows Martin's being genuine. 

"I know Martin. I'm just… tired i think." He breathes out deeply, setting his mug down on the edge of Martin's desk. "We should get back to work i guess…." 

"O-of course jon-" he seems eager enough to throw himself into his work now that Jon's mentioned it. "I'll- get right to that." 

// 

The hours tick by much quicker than Martin had expected, it's after 6 before he realizes it. 

"Jon!!" He looks back at the closed door, but he doesn't hear Jon's voice coming from inside. He stands, steeling himself to push open the creaky door. 

Inside, Jon is asleep in the armchair, laid across it like he just flopped down without a care. 

"Jon… it's after 6." He gently shakes Jon, hoping to wake him up. He does stir slightly, but other than a soft mumble, Martin doesn't get a response. 

He sighs. Martin knows his normal train will be leaving soon, but he can't bring himself to leave his passed out boss alone in the archives. So he scoops Jon up, hoping he doesnt wake up as that would take a whole degree of explaining that Martin just doesn't want to deal with. 

Setting Jon down on the worn out couch in the room connected to the small kitchen, Martin leaves him there to brew some more tea. He has no idea for how long his boss is going to be out for, but seeing as they're the only two in this section of the archives, it's likely they'll be unbothered. 

//

Returning to the couch, Martin sees Jon sitting up, although he still looks just as exhausted as he did while passed out. 

"...Jon?" The concern in his voice and his eyes is crystal clear. 

"Yes martin?" Jon's eyes are heavy lidded, but he still looks up at him. In the time the tea was brewing, he shed his shoes and pulled his legs up onto the couch, curling into himself. 

"Are you- are you alright? You look exhausted…" he says, setting the mug down on the table and sitting down on the couch next to him. 

"I… yes Martin I'm alright." He's lying through his teeth, and he's hoping Martin can't tell. 

"You're not. You look too tired to move Jon..." 

Jon shakes his head. "I can! I a-am perfectly fine Martin." He looks up at Martin, whose look of concern still hasn't faded. 

"Look… can i just help you home? My train already left a while ago- i wouldn't mind at all." 

Jon sighs and looks away. "Fine- if it'll make you feel better, I'm all for it." 

"Thank you." 

// 

The train station is thankfully empty, having missed rush hour. The two would have probably only drawn states had the station been more packed. 

"Martin this really isn't necessary- i can do this myself." He crosses his arms, looking up at Martin, who has carried him bridal style from the archives to the station. 

"Oh hush, you nearly fell over when you tried to stand! I'm not letting you fall in a puddle." The concrete of the outdoor station is still damp from the heavy rains earlier in the day. 

Jon huffs and grumbles, but he doesn't ultimately demand to be put down. 

//

On the train, Martin finally sets Jon down in the window seat, hoping to stop him from falling over in his seat. Jon leans tiredly against Martin's shoulder, his soft sweater combined with the smell of his soap- a lemony sweet scent that Jon had tried his best to always ignore- making him smile softly. 

Martin looks around the train- and after he sees that the few people in the same carriage are engrossed in their own little worlds, he wraps an arm around Jon. He's terrified of Jon throwing his arm off, but instead the archivist scoots closer, finally feeling at least some semblance of safety. 

// 

The intercom chimes in around fifteen minutes later, waking Martin from his light sleep. Jons out cold, but he still scoops jon up anyways. 

Martin knows vaguely where jons apartment is, and Jon even got out his keys before falling asleep fully, so he takes those out of his grasp gently. 

Looking up at the uniform grey apartment building, it's intimidating in a familiar way. Martin heads for the elevator, knowing he wont manage the stairs with Jon in his arms. 

Up to the third floor, and then five doors over- or at least that's what Jon had mumbled to him on the train. 

// 

Unlocking the door, Martin looks in at a… surprisingly open and neat apartment. Although- the couch is strewn with blankets and pillows as if it's more common for Jon to pass out on the couch than actually make it to the bed. 

He frowns slightly, looking from the sleeping jon in his arms to the apartment. Martin really doesn't want to leave Jon here alone- he knows the terror of waking up and expecting someone to be by your side but them leaving. 

He sighs, plopping down on the couch, letting Jon sleep on top of him. Jons hair is normally up, either in a braid or a messy bun like it is today, but Martin carefully undoes it, letting his hair down. Using his fingers, he gently combs out jons grey streaked hair. 

He doesn't even realize when Jon wakes then promptly relaxes into him as Martin strokes his hair. 


	3. Fish & Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and martin go on a date-but-not-really and eat fish and chips together
> 
> Idk when exactly this is set but its definitely a bit earlier than alLlll the chaos that happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WooOooo moRe stuFffff
> 
> God ep 174 sure is something holy shiT- the vasts cool but so scary

It's late on a saturday, and Martin's only been up for about an hour and it already seems the day's going to suck. His apartment is cold, like it always is when it rains. 

Padding around his apartment in thick woolen socks, but even that can't ward off the cold. Sighing, Martin glances at his phone and sees the blue flashing light of a message notification. _Shit-_

Panicking slightly, he unlocks his phone and sees Jon's sent him a few messages. 

"Martin- do you have any plans today?" And then a minute later, "That was intrusive I'm sorry you don't need to answer that" 

Martin looks down at his phone, and he has to reread the messages a few times before his brain lets him process. _Jon wants to know about my plans????_

"Its ok jon im free today- why do you ask?" He sets his phone down on the counter, turning back to the slowly boiling kettle. His phone buzzes. 

Jon groans, regretting ever letting his half asleep self have access to his phone. _GoD-_

"I just… wanted to ask if we could spend time together?" He rereads his message before adding a second later: "To talk about work of course"

Reading and rereading the messages, Martin can't help hoping it's not actually work related- but at the same time, he knows Jon. The workaholic archivist very often spent nights at the archives, so if he says work, it probably means work. 

"Oh!! Of course jon- where do you want to meet up?" 

"I was thinking the fish and chips stand by my apartment?" This is sounding more and more like a date Jon- he picks at his fingers, stress quickly spreading through his body. 

"That sounds nice, any ideas when?" The kettle screams, and Martin hesitantly leaves his phone on the couch to pour the boiling water over the teabag in one of his more novel mugs, a frog with a mushroom hat. 

"30 minutes from now?" 

It takes Martin a minute or so to text back, and Jon freaks out just a little bit more. _Its oK Sims- shusH._

"Sounds good! See you there!" He sighs, setting down his phone. Martin can feel the anxiety twisting his stomach. _It'll be ok Martin, you can do this._

// 

Waiting outside in the foggy street, Jon's taken this opportunity to dress as casually and comfortably as he wanted- or in other words, he let himself choose the oversized clothes in his closet. An old worn band tee, and sweatpants that he had to cuff several times and yet he's still swimming in them. 

Martin's got his hand tangled in his hoodie strings in hopes of stopping himself from chewing his nails and a pair of headphones blasting music. He looks up from the pavement, spotting Jon and turning off the headphones. 

"Hello Martin-" he says, not looking up at him in hopes his face won't heat up if he doesn't make eye contact. 

"Hi Jon…" he doesn't mind the lack of eye contact, or at least it bothers him very little. "So- fish and chips?" He pulls his wallet out of his bag as he says this. 

Jon nods, looking up at the man running the stand rather than Martin, his mind still racing with the awkwardness of this situation. Which yes, it is awkward- but for a whole other reason than "your boss asked you to hang out on a weekend." 

Martin hands the man £10, then looks over at jon. "Jon…?" 

"Yes Martin?" He's still avoiding eye contact, but it's more and more clear the longer Martin watches him that he's blushing. 

"How's your day been so far?" He chooses to abandon pushing Jon on why exactly he wanted to meet up. _Maybe he's just lonely… people get lonely._

"It's-" he starts, before being interrupted by the man, who hands them each the oil stained paper containers. "O-oh! Thank you…" he reacts like he completely zoned out while Martin had ordered- which he did do, he hasn't been getting enough sleep to keep up very well. 

Martin nods in thanks before turning on his heels and starting to walk, Jon hot on his heels. He opens the container and just looks at his food for a moment, having not eaten earlier. He takes a bite of fish and he mumbles something, mostly just happy to have food. 

Jon finally looks up at him, smiling softly. "He really knows what he's doing doesn't he? I've been eating there since uni." Handling the somewhat greasy container carefully, he eats as they walk. He's a naturally quiet person, even his footsteps are soft on the damp pavement. 

Martin nods, enjoying every moment- although that's not because of the food. _Even silence is nice around him-_

// 

Reaching a spot by the bridge, they sit together on the driest bench they can find. They're seated awkwardly far apart, both of them trying to keep their distance from the other to not seem creepy. But as the chilly winds creep in, they slowly inch together on the bench, Jon leaning against Martin's arm, smiling softly and absolutely melting on the inside, as is Martin. 

"Y'know Jon… this is the best time I've had in quite a while-" 

Jon nods, "I agree Martin…"


	4. Lavender candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin writes poetry- and yearns for The Archivist. 
> 
> During Martin's stay in the archives' bunker.

_ "Lavender candlelight" _

The "climate controlled bunker" in the archives didn't really have the best of beds, thought Martin. He constantly tossed and turned, never getting fully comfortable in the thin blankets and all too cold and empty room. 

_ "Watching the flickering flames" _

He sighs, looking up at the small window in the heavy door, the lights of the door behind it glowing softly.  _ Jon said he was staying late- didn't he? _ He can't help but watch the light, somehow hoping that Jon would… check on him? He doesn't know really… 

_ "Gentle soft smells, hard to describe" _

He rolls over, pulling the worn thin grey blanket over his head. His heads abuzz with thoughts, and for once Martin just wishes for silence, away from the thoughts of Jon's kind tired face, of his rough and worn hands. 

_ "Like the lasting perfume of someone else's clothes." _

He can hear the lights click off and the door creak shut quietly as Jon leaves, and he smiles softly.  _ He even left quietly… or is that just habit-  _

_ "Chokingly sweet but completely indescribable…"  _

He snuggles into the blankets in the pitch darkness, hoping to block out the thoughts- and only worsening them. One of the blankets, he knows Jon lent him- going back to his flat wasn't the best of ideas at the moment. This meant, of course, that that one blanket smelled of Jon, of his soft charcoal soap and lavender hair oil that always lingered. Martin rolls onto his back, staring up at the paneled ceiling.  _ Hell- Martin get ahold of yourself!!! _

_ "Being swallowed up in a dark warm void of my thoughts."  _

He tries to sleep, he really does- but no matter how hard he tries, he's stuck in a limbo. Between sleep and awakeness, stuck in his own head. His head is a flurry of thoughts of Jonathan, and when he finally does nod off, his dreams are full of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent wAy too long trying to write a poem here jesus chriSt-


	5. You are my sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which i flippantly decide that yknow what i bet martin has a lovely singing voice and no ones around to stop me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honest to god need to slow down- 
> 
> But am i?? NaHhhhh

It's a rather slow afternoon in the archives, and the heat is making everyone feel sluggish. 

Martin slides back in his seat, overdramatically melting. "SashaAaaa I'm meltinG~!" 

She doesn't even look up from her computer before breaking into laughter. "Martin- you fooL~" 

He smiles and sits back up slowly, happy to have broken the thick sweaty silence. The heat is too stifling to focus on his work, and so he does the only thing he can think to do- burst into The Archivist's office. 

//

He waits until he can no longer hear Jon's muffled voice coming through the door before entering, and he brings with him two glasses of lemonade made from the concentrate Tim had brought in this morning. 

"Hey…?" He nudges open the door with his hip, his hands full. 

"Yes Martin?" Jon looks tired, the bags under his eyes clear as day and the heat sure isn't helping him. 

He looks down at the two glasses of lemonade, then back up at him sheepishly. "I brought lemonade?" 

He yawns widely like a cat and blinks at him a few times before motioning to the one clear spot on the mess of files and books that he calls a desk. He mumbles out a thank you to him. 

"Here-" Martin, instead of just setting it down on the desk, gives the glass to Jon, who holds it with both hands- mostly out of habit because Martin's mugs are quite large for him. 

He takes a long sip before looking back up at him, wiping his mouth. "Thank you Martin." 

He nods, his focus on the mason jar of lemonade. "O-of course…." 

// 

As the afternoon passes, the archives cool, if only slightly. And that slight change means all the more, especially as Martin gets sucked into one of his assigned statements. 

It's one of the less gory ones, one that probably will disprove itself with a bit of research- but as Martin searches through databases, names and places don't turn up. Any time a statement is stubborn in giving up details, it only draws in Martin's curiosity more. 

With headphones on, he doesn't really realize he's humming- Tim and Sasha having left as soon as they could, leaving him and Jon to "their nerdy business" as Sasha put it, and so no ones around to tease him about it. 

_"You are my sunshine- my only sunshine~"_ he sings softly under his breath, not even really realizing it. _"You make me happy, when skies are grey- you'll never know, dear, how much i love you~"_

Jons sitting on the floor of his office, with his back to the door and just listening to Martin's soft voice, not wanting to disrupt him. 

_"Please don't take my sunshine away-"_

He frowns, ear to the door, and sighs. That song always hit him hard… he wasn't too sure why- but it did, especially in Martin's voice. 

_"Please don't take my sunshine away……"_


	6. Coffeestains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon wants to stay late at the archives- and Martin's so tired he stays behind for a bit too long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sorry for disappearing for so long- life got in the way a bit
> 
> Enjoy this.... whatever it is

The shifting of papers is almost all that can be heard coming from the Archivist's office. 

It's an early day today, Tim and Sasha have already gone home before the sun had even begun to set as it has by now. Not that Martin would know though, he hasn't left the archives since he came in. Not even for his lunch break. He'd been too burnt out to do much of anything today, but he's learned to hide that pretty well over the years. 

His lunch had been from the silver thermos he had brought in with him- chicken ramen. It had been a good, if very light, lunch. 

Martin sighs heavily, running his hand down his face. His hand were cold and somewhat sweaty- but at this point he didnt care. Hes too tired, and not enough of his brain is awake to process much. 

Especially not to properly process what to do when Jon exited his office, dressed in… a very large and very worn pink floyd shirt, and some very very colorful socks. It took all the energy left in him to not stare as Jon tiredly exits and plops down in the worn armchair. 

Jon's eyes widen, only now taking in the fact he is not, in fact, alone in the archives for the might. "Martin? Oh gods _I'm sorry-_ " he says, freaking out a bit. 

"What?? Oh- oh no i'm sorry i-ill be going-" martin says, going to stand and gather his things. 

Jon watches him, sitting cross legged in the brown leather armchair. "....it's ok. You can stay here if you want- th-there's a spare room. I just- intended to have a late night, yknow?" 

Martin nods, and stops awkwardly shuffling all his things back into his bag. He yawns and stretches, before rubbing his eye. "D- have you had anything to eat today?" 

"No…? Can't say I have." 

"Then I'm making you food. We've both eaten terribly today." He says determinedly, heading into the small kitchen. 

"Martin! We can just go out for food you don't need to-" he sighs, "fiiiiiine." He stands, quietly padding his way into the small kitchen. 

//

The smell of Martin's cooking still lingers in the air the next morning, when Tim arrives with a coffee in hand. 

"Martin? JonnNn?" He calls, poking his head around the corner. "Mar-" he cuts himself off. 

In the worn armchair in the corner is Martin and Jon, curled in on each other and fast asleep. Martins wrapped his arms around Jon protectively, and it seems like they're both smiling in their sleep. 

Tim decides on, instead of waking the two and embarrassing them, taking a picture and sending it to Sasha with the caption " _look at these two gay idiots lol_ " and sneaking back out of the archives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its so short


End file.
